


Glass Devil

by fatfartshit



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 15:36:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20194618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatfartshit/pseuds/fatfartshit
Summary: after the aftermath of the Apocalypse that wasn’t, Aziraphale stays at Crowley’s house and watches as Crowley falls apart.





	Glass Devil

Crowley’s eyes were nothing short of magnificent, and Aziraphale knew this. He thought about them often, just as he thought about them now. Like a sun setting, black tea being stirred by a spoon, glass emerging from the glory hole.   
Crowley is glass. He was malleable, and the forces of Hell knew this, and used it against him.  
One wrong move and he could shatter.  
Falling had shattered him, but he had rebuilt himself and tried again, and Aziraphale has infinite respect for him in that regard.   
Aziraphale reckoned he had shattered Crowley yet again with his discorporation. Crowley cared about him so much, and he knew this, but he needed more time. He had hoped Crowley would understand, but through the ages the cracks began to show, and losing Aziraphale was his breaking point.  
But Aziraphale would give him space, let him breathe.  
He sat by the fire, book in hand, wondering if Crowley could rebuild himself yet again.  
He wasn’t deeply concerned until he heard splintering glass from the back of Crowley’s flat.  
Crowley was kneeling on the white tile, surrounded by crystal shards. Blood poured from his fingers.  
“I cut my hand...”  
His eyes were wet with tears.   
Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him as lovingly as he could muster. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I’m sorry you had to wait, and I’m sorry I left, I’m sorry I wasn’t-“  
“Do you love me?”  
Aziraphale looked into his eyes. He stared at the tears running down his face, at the blood pouring from his hand. He was completely and utterly broken.   
Aziraphale sat across from him on the floor. He miracled away the glass, the blood, the cut on his hand.  
“Of course, my dear. Infinitely.”  
Crowley laughed a bit. “I waited so long for you, angel. And every second of it is worth it, but if you’re not ready...”  
“Im ready, Crowley. And I’m not going to leave again.”   
Crowley rested his head in the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. The angel took his hand and waited patiently as Crowley sobbed into his shoulder.   
He waited patiently for Crowley to pick up the broken pieces and rebuild himself.   
Aziraphale knew he would be waiting a while, but they had all of eternity together.   
Every second was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading and supporting me as a budding author!!!!!! :) <3


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